From the Inside
by fiesa
Summary: Quite the usual mess. Just of the internal sort. Jaina, Jag – two missiles on collision course. Take cover and prepare for impact. Fifty 100-word drabbles.
1. 01 - Comfort

**From the Inside**

_Summary: Quite the usual mess. Just of the internal sort. Jaina, Jag – two missiles on collision course. Take cover and prepare for impact. 50 100-word drabbles._

_Warning: Challenge. Report me if you must. _

_Set: Might contain spoilers for the Fate of the Jedi series. And for everything before._

_Disclaimer: Standards apply. Theme set taken from a one-sentence-challenge on livejournal, which I am not a member of. I thought them very fitting and have taken the liberty to use them. And, since the last one-sentence-challenge I did was reported and deleted, I am settling with 100-word drabbles. _

* * *

**01 – Comfort**

"I don't need your help, Solo."

"Suit yourself, Fel."

_Arrogant bastard, _she thought, anger boiling inside her hotly. Yes, they had history. Yes, he had every right to be like that. She just had thought… Had hoped, more correctly. Jaina watched his stiff back retreat down the corridor and cursed herself for having even tried. _If you hadn't, you'd feel bad. _Her inner voice sounded like Mom today. Forcing herself to ignore it, she stalked off into the opposite direction.

Somehow the knowledge he hadn't changed was strangely comforting. Nobody could change him. Not even she had been able to.


	2. 02 - Kiss

**02 – Kiss**

Sometimes she wondered.

How could he kiss her without thinking of what she already had done? Using her lips, in particular. She had kissed Zeck. She had breathed out the Dark Side. She had cursed Vong. She had spoken Hive language. Either it didn't matter to him, or he pretended it didn't.

"Well," Jag said slowly. Thoughtful. "What about my hands? I killed with them. I hunted. Jedi, too."

"Sith," she protested.

"We've all done things we never wanted to do. Things we regret. This," Jag said and looked at her, "Is not one of them."

And he kissed her.


	3. 03 - Soft

**03 – Soft**

There was nothing soft in her.

Jaina Solo was not beautiful, Jagged Fel decided.

His father had spoken of the Solo and Skywalker's with the same regard he spoke of flying. Jag had come to associate them – whatever they were, his enemies or his father's old friends – as a legend that yet needed to be proven. He intended to do so.

Not exactly beautiful, but she drew in glances. She also was a damn good pilot.

She spiraled downwards gracefully, her X-Wing seemingly a living extension of her body. _Nothing soft._ A coral skipper bloomed into silent fire and burst.


	4. 04 - Pain

**04 – Pain**

Fighting her was easy.

Perhaps it wasn't _fighting_. Jag was too rational, too controlled, and Jaina was all Jedi-like when it came to that. But they did _disagree_. And each disagreement was simple because he could then look at her, listen to her and argue with her without thinking of how beautiful she was when she was angry, how the fire in her eyes made her even prettier. Fighting her was easy because he could tell himself that they had nothing in common except for a shared history and that they only were colleagues now, nothing more.

_Loving_ Jaina hurt.


	5. 05 - Rain

**05 – Rain**

There was no rain on Coruscant.

At least there had been no rain before the Yuuzhan Vong had terraformed the planet. It was strange, seeing the pink sky and the white clouds over the newly constructed skeletons of skyscrapers everywhere.

"I'll be back as fast as possible," Jag said and stepped behind her. She nodded without turning. Both of them knew _as fast as possible_ could mean days, weeks and months all the same. His arms were warm and real around her waist.

There was no rain cloud in sight.

Jaina wished there was because she wouldn't be the one to shed tears.


	6. 06 - Chocolate

**06 – Chocolate**

"A Fondor delicacy, your Highness," the diplomat whispered. "Sweet and aromatic."

Jagged could have as well tasted Alderaan's ashes. How weird that a person's happiness could be bound to another being if these bonds were so damn breakable.

"What is it made from?" His voice sounded like a stranger's to him.

"From the fruit of an ancient tree," the diplomat replied, happy he had taken up the subject. "Our ancestors brought it with them when they colonized the planet. Consider it our gift to celebrate your engagement."

In his pocket, the ring Jaina had returned to him became heavier with each second.


	7. 07 - Telephone

**07 – Telephone**

"Oh stang."

"Force, no – Jag, you don't want to just as much as touch that cursed thing right now, otherwise I swear..."

"It could be important…"

"You are the Head of State. It always is important when they comm you."

"Damn good argument."

His com link fell silent again after a minute of desperate beeping. And, miraculously, didn't start again. Not that they noticed the absence of more disturbances. In the morning, Jag actually managed to eat some of the breakfast Jaina made him before it went off again.

Jaina grinned as she kissed him. "I should threaten you more."


End file.
